


For as Long as You Need Me

by CarnationGem (Akumeoi)



Series: You Own The Stars Tonight [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: (or died rather), Blue-Purple Hawke, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Leandra Hawke Dies, Purple Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 11:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11103189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi/pseuds/CarnationGem
Summary: In the aftermath of Leandra Hawke's death, Fenris offers Lyra Hawke what comfort he can. Rewrite of a scene from the game.





	For as Long as You Need Me

Leandra was dead. 

Leandra was dead, and Lyra hadn’t left her room in a full three days. Every morning, noon, and night, Orana brought her food, which she ate without tasting, each bite sliding down her throat and settling in her stomach with all the grace of a stone. Every day she left a little more on the plate, and every day she slept for a little less, so that the dark circles under her eyes grew ever more pronounced. All visitors she refused, even Aveline and Varric. Cailan, her family’s faithful Mabari, lay at her feet as she stared numbly out the window or up at the ceiling. The Mabari looked far more woebegone than his dead-eyed mistress. 

If any thought in particular were passing through Lyra’s mind, she could no more have articulated it than she could have laughed, smiled, or even cried. Bodhan pleaded with her through the door to at least go out to the balcony to get some fresh air. Lyra didn’t hear him.

It was the evening of the third day, and Orana knocked timidly at Lyra’s door. 

“Oh, is it dinner time?” Lyra said vaguely, forgetting that she had already eaten. Orana didn’t hear her. “Come in!” Lyra called, as she heard the tentative knock again. Orana peeked around the door, and, seeing Lyra’s face vaguely focused in her direction, slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her. 

“Mistress Lyra...” she began. Normally it wasn’t her habit to use Lyra’s name, but Lyra wouldn’t answer to anything else these days. 

“Mmm?” Lyra said, gaze wandering lethargically over Orana’s face before finally focusing on her eyes.

“Mistress Lyra, you have another visitor,” Orana said. Instantly, Lyra looked away. 

“I don’t want any...” she said listlessly.

“But it’s - it’s -”

The hesitation in Orana’s voice finally attracted Lyra’s full attention. 

“Am I in trouble?” she asked, frowning slightly. Orana thought to herself that if Knight-Commander Meredith herself showed up right now to arrest Lyra for being an apostate mage, Lyra would probably just go with her. 

“No, my lady,” she said, and if there was a note of thankfulness in her voice, Lyra missed it completely.

“Then who is it?” Lyra said impatiently. 

“It’s - it’s Master Fenris, Mistress,” Orana blurted out. Lyra froze and Orana peered at her in concern. 

“Shall I tell him to go away?” Orana said uncertainly. 

Lyra hesitated, then sighed. 

“Fenris...”

“He seems very worried about you, Mistress,” Orana said. The same had been true of Varric and Aveline, but that hadn’t changed Lyra’s mind about sending them both away.

“Let him in,” Lyra said. 

“Yes Mistress, at once, Mistress, thank you,” Orana said, then quickly slipped back out of the room. 

For a moment, Lyra sat still. Turning her head this way and that, she saw that her room was somehow clean. Strange - Lyra had imagined it would be in complete disarray. Had Orana come in to clean? She couldn’t remember. Well, the clothing she was wearing was unwrinkled enough, so that was the only thing to worry about, really. Would Fenris be hungry? She could send up for tea. She was sure Orana would like that; Orana had almost scolded her about that last plate she’d said she was done with... which seemed like a long time ago.

There was another knock at the door, this one much louder but no less hesitant. 

“Come in,” Lyra said. 

The door opened, and Fenris was there. 

Hurriedly closing the door behind him as if she might change her mind about letting him in, Fenris strode over to the bed where Lyra was sitting perched on the edge. 

“I don’t know what to say, but I’m here,” he said.

_Fenris is here._

Looking up at Fenris’s face, Lyra felt a strange kind of anxiety boiling in her gut, dulled by the depression that had consumed her since her mother had died in front of her. But Fenris was there, and suddenly all she wanted to do was run into his arms. 

Even though those arms didn’t belong to her any more. If they ever had to begin with. 

“Thank you,” Lyra said, choking back a lump in her throat and pressing her hand to her forehead for a moment. 

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your family,” Fenris continued, soft green gaze locking with Lyra’s eyes. “It’s totally outside of anything I can remember.”

_Fenris is here._

This fact hadn’t quite sunk in yet. 

_Fenris was here when Mother died. He saw._

Lyra’s hands curled into fists. 

“Fenris?” she said, her voice high and trembling.

“Yes?”

“Is this my fault?”

Sinking down onto the bed beside her, Fenris was silent for a moment. Then he said, “You’re looking for something that I can’t give you. You want to be absolved, but I can’t do that.”

“Mother said this wasn’t my fault,” Lyra said. “But she was a - an abomination at the time she said it. How can I believe that’s true?”

“I don’t know. But I believe it.”

Lyra looked up at Fenris, smiling wanly, a pale imitation of her usual expression. 

“At least someone does.”

Fenris looked taken aback, but he nodded. Looking down again, Lyra saw that his hand was sitting flat on the bed beside hers, and her own hand twitched towards it involuntarily. Fenris must have noticed, because he hesitated a moment, then lifted his hand and placed it on top of hers - the first human contact she’d had in what felt like a long, long time. 

“Fenris?”

“Did you not-” he began, but she shook her head. 

“I don’t want to cause you any pain,” she said, her voice nearly breaking as she looked away from him. 

“The only pain I have at this moment comes from knowing that you are unhappy and I cannot help you,” Fenris said gravely. 

“I’ll be fine,” Lyra said, trying to summon up her usual flippant spirit. “I can survive anything, you know me. I survived the Blight, Flemeth, the Deep Roads, all sorts of things. You know.”

Fenris regarded her steadily, clearly unconvinced. 

“Orana tells me you haven’t left this room in three days,” he said flatly.

“Has it been that long? I had no idea,” Lyra said casually. But as Fenris’s gaze didn’t waver, she sighed. 

“When Bethany died, I didn’t mourn for her properly. I was too busy getting us to Kirkwall and working for Athenril once we arrived. I think this is just... everything coming down,” Lyra said. For a moment, she could have sworn she felt Fenris’s fingers tighten against hers. “And then there’s Carver...”

“Carver? What does he have to do with this?” Fenris frowned.

“He left me!” Lyra said angrily. “And he joined the Templars! I am a mage. He knows why I hate the Templars in this city. How could he do this to me?”

It was only speaking these words that the full realisation of her own feelings hit Lyra like a ten-ton dead weight. Her mother gone. Her sister gone. And her brother, who she loved, hadn’t even come to see her about it. And all of this possibly, in some way, shape or her form - karmically, maybe - was her fault. Leaning forward, Lyra slipped her hand out of Fenris’s grasp and tucked both of her arms around her stomach as if she were in physical pain. She bit her lip, but still a few tears slipped out from under her closed eyelids and trickled down her nose.

 _I am alone,_ Lyra wanted to say, but she didn’t know that Fenris wouldn’t say “Yes, you are,” and she didn’t know if she could break any more or if those words would just outright kill her.

There was Fenris’s warm hand, gently resting against her back.

“Should I fetch Orana?” he asked, sounding uncertain. 

It took Lyra a moment to regain control enough to gasp out the words. 

“No. Stay. Please,” she pleaded. 

“I’ll stay for as long as you need me,” Fenris said. 

A knot clenched around Lyra’s heart.

“Really?”

“I will.”

Lyra sighed. For a moment she didn’t move.

“Fenris... would you stay here tonight, with me?”

“Stay here?” Fenris repeated cautiously. 

“Please, I don’t want to be alone. It’s so empty. The house. Please stay.”

Fenris sighed, gently stroking Lyra’s back with one careful hand. 

“I will stay.”

Lyra sat up. Turning to him, she gave him another wan smile, eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you. I’ll call Orana. Do you need anything?”

“No. I ate before I came here. Did you?”

“Probably,” Lyra said dismissively. “Fine, I won’t call Orana then. I just want to sleep.”

“If you’re sure,” Fenris said. While Lyra changed into a nightgown, Fenris stripped down to his shirt and his smallclothes, and both of them got into bed. 

“Thank you for coming, Fenris,” Lyra sighed. “I... need you. I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologise for,” Fenris said, and even in her miserable state Lyra felt something unsaid settle over him then. “Do you wish for me to hold you? It may help.”

“Yes,” Lyra said. Maybe at another time being in this close proximity to Fenris would make her ache for things she couldn’t have, but that ache couldn’t compare to the pain of the things she had lost. At least Fenris was still alive, and still her friend, and... right now putting his arms around her. 

As Fenris settled his arms over the curve of her waist and underneath her neck, pulling her tightly to him, Lyra let out a huff of breath and leaned into the curve of his body. He was so close she could feel him breathing softly on the back of her neck, feel his warmth from shoulder to knee. Lacing her fingers with his, she put his palm over her heart. 

“I’m glad you came back,” Lyra murmured. 

So quietly she thought she might have imagined it, Fenris whispered in reply, “For you, of course.”


End file.
